IN THE END Mom's stubbornness gets her out of the penthouse in under two minutes.

After telling her family that she was leaving soon, Ellie offered to stay five more minutes to finish what Mom had started getting together. So far, for all their joking and not-so-subtle glances between Ellie's parents (prompting her and Abi's shared glances in response), they'd managed to piece together that Jason and Greg were renting out a place under fake names. For two aspiring mastermind criminals, they were both dumb as rocks.

It was this ease that made Mom usher Ellie out, excusing her, Dad, and Abi with the common I work better on my own. Ellie still doesn't know if that was out of genuine concern for Buffy or if they'd truly begun intruding on her mother, but out the door they went anyway.

Dad's silence is what Ellie is now left with when auntie Abi excuses herself, providing the reason of calling aunt Sidney and making sure she stays far away from here. Her absence means they've been sitting in the most silence a hotel lobby in New York can provide for five excruciating minutes.
She's never quiet around Dad, always babbling because she knows- for the most part- that he doesn't mind. But today, after being around Mom in the home they used to share for more than five minutes, he doesn't seem like he's in the talking mood.

Key word: seem.

"Did you think it was you?"

His voice makes Ellie jolt from where she'd been nodding off against his shoulder, worn from almost dying a handful of times in the span of twelve hours. "What?"

"After I-after I left. Did you think it was because of you?"

A sore spot Ellie never expected to be prodded at again arises at the question, leg bouncing as she lifts her head. "I mean...you know."

"I don't." His voice sounds more pained than Ellie wants to acknowledge, eyes focused on where Abi is across the room. The phone call can't be going easily; Sidney's too stubborn.

Ellie takes advantage of his wandering eyes to shift back into the chair, looking down at her lap to double her chances of not hurting his feelings directly. "A little," she admits, and it would take a miracle for someone to not hear the breath Dad sucks through his teeth. "It's not because you made me feel that way or anything. It isn't. I just, you know. I thought you and Mom were happy together. I thought New York was okay, so I figured it had to be me. I knew I could be a handful, so I figured- it made sense to me."

"You weren't a handful." His response is immediate. Ellie knows her efforts to avoid his gaze have now become null, feeling the weight of his apologies land like bullets as he shifts in his chair.

"Ellie, baby, look at me."

As she was saying.

It's a Herculean effort to raise her eyes from where they rest on her hands, tugging at her pink hair ties the way she always does when she can't find another escape. "Yeah?"

"You weren't a handful." This repetition feels like the promise Ellie still finds herself desiring on the worst of days, leg bouncing as she watches her father search for words. "You weren't. I didn't leave because of you. If I could do it all again-" he cuts himself off, hands wringing together the same way Ellie's have a tendency to do.

"If you could do it all again..?" She prompts, a sad sort of desperation to her voice. It makes sense that this is what gets Dad to sigh, running a calloused hand over his face as though wiping away tears before they can arise.

"If I could do it all again, I wouldn't have left you. Not like that."

A relief Ellie has yet to find a name for floods her veins. The desperate little girl hungry for answers presses her hands against Ellie's heart now, feeling the ba-bump find a rhythm that feels a little like finding hope in a favored song. Dad must see it, the way he always sees everything, because he continues despite his shaking breath.

"You didn't deserve it. Neither of you did. Your mom...kinda threw it back in my face when she saw me, but I earned that." Glancing down to his hands Dad pushes them against his knees, lower lip dragging between his teeth before he continues. "I've regretted it for years, babygirl. I regretted it the moment I got on that plane. I didn't- I didn't even tell you goodbye. I thought for sure you were gonna hate me after that, so I-"

"Didn't call." Ellie finishes, though her voice lacks any hint of accusation. "You didn't call for five months. I thought- I thought I was why. You disappeared and didn't call and I,  you know,  I figured it was me."

While it's an admission still raw enough to feel like she's pouring salt in a wound that's slit down to the bone Ellie finds a certain freedom in it, this once silent truth assuaging the guilt she's carried since she was eleven years old. She remembers the moment Mom told her Dad bought that plane ticket without either of them knowing, remembers repeating no, he wouldn't leave us, standing by the phone like all it had to do was ring in order for things to get better. She remembers clutching his old t-shirt that once went under his uniform, curling up against it for the hug she craved more than anything. She remembers looking in the mirror, staring herself down with a hatred only a girl who broke her family could carry. She remembers it all too well. This is a secret she has held to her chest for eight years. This is guilt alleviated by the truth, pointing to the X marking the spot of her hurt and telling her father of how she fell apart there.

Unfortunately for said guilt, it seems to hit Dad like a bus.

His head hangs like a scolded dog once she finishes speaking, fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry," he starts, voice warbling with tears yet to spill over. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I can't say it enough. I never should have left you."

No. No, he shouldn't have. The girl she used to be, the girl who could only be angry at him for a few hours before turning all that rage inward, wants to revive in the face of an apology. She's spoken to him every day after he finally gave in, spent summers, holidays, and birthdays, but some part still wants to snap back about how much she needed him.

The rest of her forgave him. It's a blessing as much as it is a curse, how deep her adoration runs for people, how quick she is to forgive. Rory has commented on it more than once. Ellie sees it herself, knows how it could kill her the same way it could mend her. She's much too soft in her love, but she would rather have that than the thorns meant to prick people away.

Taking her father's calloused hand in hers Ellie squeezes thrice, a silent message he taught her the morning of kindergarten. Tap anything three times, princess, and I promise I'll feel it.

I love you.

"I think you've felt bad long enough," she starts, feeling more and more like a child whose only safety is her father by the minute. "Daddy, I forgive you. I forgave you then and I forgive you now. I think it's time you try forgiving yourself."

The words are rich coming from her. If he knows such a thing Dad doesn't acknowledge it, instead raising her hand the way he always did when she was a child, pressing a kiss to the back of it like she's seven years old and being tucked into bed.

He's always guarded her from the monsters, even when he wasn't there in person.

It's time to lay his to rest.

ROLLING ONTO BLACKMORE campus is nothing like Ellie expected it to be.

From how her friends (and Tara, who she can't quite call a friend despite how she vehemently denies feeling anything else for the best possible thing in the entire world) described it, it almost felt small. She's seen it from her building's windows and on walks along the sidewalk, but being inside the courtyard is entirely different.

It's made worse by the fact that Dad and Abi admitted to not having eaten yet, meaning Ellie had no real choice but to banish them to her favorite eatery and navigate this jungle alone. While undoubtedly a travesty of epic proportions, at least this means her friends won't tease her for her crush on Tara.

This is because they will never find her. She lives here now.

It's when she checks her phone after what feels like forever and finds that it has been ten minutes since she initially tried finding her friends that Ellie decides to give in.

Opening her messages she scrolls right to Tara's contact, ignoring how her heart skips at the mere sight of her name.

Buffy was right. Pathetically so, actually, but Ellie is choosing to ignore that for now.

me: im here :(

moonlight: ?? i dont see you

me: im lost :(

moonlight: srsly?

moonlight: hang on. im omw

moonlight: ill be your knight in shining armor

me: how do you know where i am?

moonlight: i have elliefinding skills.

The comment is embarrassingly effective. Ellie feels her cheeks flush as she steps further into the small clearing, fiddling with her hands because fuck-knows-what else she can do. It's embarrassingly easy for Tara to fluster her, from endearing nicknames to comments that Ellie's never heard before and never wants to hear again if the person saying it isn't Tara, and she's gotta get the energy out now before she looks more like an obvious mess than she already does when Tara is around.

"Ellie!"

Or when she says her name.

Turning around Ellie-Marie feels a true grin bloom across her lips, hand waving on greeting. She half expects Tara to roll her eyes playfully before pulling her along, as any sane person would do in this increasingly embarrassing situation, and braces herself to laugh it off.

With all these expectations Ellie has no way to prepare for the full body crash she receives instead.

Tara's arms wrap around her in synchrony with that wave of citrusy perfume, a breath of relief falling past peach tinted lips. Having Tara in her arms is a stress relief Ellie has found herself growing more and more familiar with over these last few months, comforted by the feeling of pink leather (is this her jacket? Ellie's pretty sure it's her jacket) under her hands.

"Told you," Tara breathes, her voice a sweet relief that makes Ellie want to melt. "I have Elliefinding skills."

Ellie can't help but giggle at the words, one hand flexing across Tara's back in an effort to bask in how right this feels. She'll get over it. That's what she's told herself for five years now.

Moments like these only make it harder.

When Tara backs away it feels slower than usual, her smile still soft with a look Ellie can't decipher. Her hand drops to brush against Ellie's, black nails standing out against her bright pink. "C'mon," she says, somehow completely oblivious to how Ellie can feel her heartbeat in her throat. "Buffy and Mindy have a whole speech waiting."

"About?"

"What layer of hell we've entered this time. My guess is we've found a new one altogether, but you know. I've never been religious."

She doesn't have to be, Ellie thinks. Looking like an angel should be enough to get her anywhere.

Buffy was more than right; she's down, and she's down bad.

Because she didn't have enough problems as is.

"You good?" Tara asks, making Ellie aware she hasn't spoken since they started walking. It's more of a blessing than Tara seems to realize, seeing as Ellie cannot stop once she gets going, but voicing that will only get her a severe look and a warning to never talk down on herself again. Which is fine. She has another plan: act natural.

"I'm fine!"

Dammit.

Tara doesn't seem to buy it. Though Ellie can now see the faint outline of Buffy a few hundred feet away and they're undoubtedly being waited on, Tara still slows to a stop.

"Fi said you were at your mom's earlier."

Ellie can't help the eyebrow raise that gets. When she makes it clear that she has no clue what the change of topic is about Tara frowns, taking Ellie's hand in hers.

"You know you can talk to me, don't you?" She asks. "I know Gale can be a lot. Especially on you, and if she said something then-"

"She didn't." Ellie assures, a small flutter blooming in her chest at the consideration. "She didn't, T. I'm just, uh, really tired."

"Have you slept?"

"My eyes are making noises when I blink, so either I haven't slept or this is all a super sucky fever dream."

Shaking her head Tara turns on her heel once more, pulling Ellie along with a surprisingly gentle grip. "See, I knew you wouldn't. That's why you're going back to my place after this."

"So I can sleep?"

"So you take care of yourself." Tara emphasizes, glancing towards Ellie striding beside her. "Same way you take care of everyone else. You gotta sleep sometime, pretty girl."

Pretty girl. Ellie can feel herself sinking deeper and deeper into the pits of whatever the hell this little crush of hers has become each time Tara uses the pet name, her eyes feeling more and more heart shaped as the days pass by.

Oddly enough, that knife is suddenly seeming less and less sharp the longer this goes unrequited.

The moment they're within earshot of the group Tara is puffing up again, removing her hand from Ellie's to prod at Chad's shoulder. "Move."

"What?"

"Move." Tara repeats, ignoring the side-eye Sam seems to be giving her. "Ellie's sitting there."

Chad glances back then, mouth opening in a silent oh before he's moving closer to Ethan. "Sorry, Els. I didn't realize your girlfriend was getting you."

She would love it if the Earth swallowed her whole right about now.

"Shut the fuck up." Tara orders, though Ellie can't help that simple spark of curiosity that lights itself in perfect synchrony with Tara's cheeks tinting. "I told you I was."

"No," Mindy corrects, seemingly taking a break from where she'd been pacing in typical Mindy anticipation. "You got a text and bolted like the creature in Jeepers Creepers was after you. Now sit down and listen, lovebirds!"

Ellie would really, really love it if the Earth swallowed her whole right now.

Regardless of how she feels her entire face turning a brighter red than a cherry tomato Ellie takes her seat between Tara and Chad, taking a deep breath to prepare for what's to come.

Randy and Juliette used to watch her sometimes. She and Buffy were sure they were sisters until they were six years old. She knows what's coming.

"Now, where was I?" Mindy picks up, her eagerness sparking a shiver of fear down Ellie-Marie's spine. It's never good when Mindy gets eager. "New characters! They're brought in to round out the suspect list or bring up the body count-"

"And if you pair that with our heroes now being in college, you have yourself a what?" Buffy continues, taking the reins with a fervor.

"A sequel?" Anika offers, and Ellie can't help but send tiny daggers her way. This is a class. This is a class in which they can fail, and from how Mindy tsks Anika's way, she's already on that mend.

"Nope!"

"No one does sequels anymore!" Buffy exclaims, and despite her mounting dismay Ellie cannot help but smile at her sister. She's always loved seeing Buffy get passionate about these things, always so amped up to share her rules to survival. She's a genius regardless of what anyone says of her pastimes. Just because she's having fun doesn't mean she's not eagerly working towards everything she desires.

Then she says it.

"We're in a franchise!"

Even though it was already said over the phone Ellie still feels her heart sink, unable to withhold her wince. 

"Rule one," Mindy starts, clearly getting amped up for God-knows-what-reason. "Everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chases, shootouts, beheadings- point is, you gotta top what came out before to keep people coming back!"

"Shootouts?" Tara asks, glancing Ellie's way. "Like-"

"Like our favorite sharpshooter herself, YES!" Wheeling in her place Buffy points Ellie's way, eyes lit up with what Ellie calls Movie Mode. "Els! Are you staying strapped?"

"Always!" To prove her point Ellie reaches to her hip, tapping twice in response.

"She has a fucking gun?!"

"Ethan, baby, not the time!" Buffy responds, briefly flicking her eyes from Ellie to give Ethan a firm shake of her head,  emphasizing the point in the most Buffy way imaginable.

"She has a fucking gun!"

"And she'll probably use it to save your ass! Let's keep it moving, shall we, Buffy?" As though possessed by the Energizer Bunny Mindy seems to bounce in place, antsy enough to make Ellie anxious.

"Now, Ellie being fucking lethal is a win for us all! Or, some of us. A few of us are gonna die, it's kinda inevitable, and I know what you're thinking! 'Buffy, shooting him can't be the only thing that works!'" Barely pausing to take a breath before she continues, Buffy seems alight with life as she seems to direct her own movie. "And you would be RIGHT! We're gonna have to light this sucker up like a molotov cocktail had a baby with a flamethrower, but then we still gotta shoot him!"

"NEVER forget about shooting him!" Mindy adds.

"And rule two! Quick, Rory, what's rule two?"

"I don't care."

"WRONG!" The girls exclaim this in a unison that vaguely reminds Ellie of the twins from The Shining, unable to withhold the puff of laughter blowing through her nose. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Tara's lips quirk in a smile.

Because it apparently can't read the room, her heart flutters.

IT'S A SOLID four hours before their little group of targets and suspects  (sans Ethan,   who conveniently had Econ,  and Quinn,  probably with her ex she's still saying she hates)  leave the campus.

Ellie-Marie can't help but think about all Mindy said, her excitement having worn away when revealing the ones most vulnerable. Legacy characters, she'd said.

Mom. Dad. Abi. Lou. Juliette. Randy. Kirby.

Seven names. Seven people who could be nothing but collateral damage if the knife finally draws their blood for the last time. Seven people she cares about. Six people Buffy loves. People who Ellie can't lose, won't lose, yet could be nothing but more names for a person who wants her dead.

It's been easy for her thoughts to weigh her down since last year. She'd been able to hide it since the attacks in 2011, shove this inner hatred down until it was shredded in the pit of her millions of beautifully broken pieces until last year nearly carved her family up like Christmas dinner and left her reeling. She flutters hopelessly from distraction to distraction, hoping the wound will close on its own with the band-aid of time and friends and love she keeps giving out because she's practically bleeding it at this point. It was enough. She wanted it to be enough.

Now she's here again. Her thoughts are ghosts whispering from the crypt of her past, promises that she can justify whatever comes of her guilt-infused grief no matter what she does, the temptation dangling above her head to take who she can save and run.

She can't do that,  though.   She's a goddamn fighter.   Besides, like Mindy said- they're counting on her now.

Tara still strides by her side despite them being at least a dozen feet behind their group,  the silence an unwelcome thing once again.  Ellie longs for Buffy to be on her other side,  longs for the familiarity her best friend provides,  but she's further ahead now.

Way further ahead,  it seems.

So lost in her own thoughts mixing with the exhaustion finally taking over her soul as the sun sets,  Ellie almost misses the commotion that makes the group halt just outside the apartment building.  She only perks up due to the soft  'what the fuck?'  Tara lets out,  peering through their friends until she finds the source.

Buffy.

Buffy and Juno,  her older brother,  standing at the front of it all.  Buffy's fuming in a way Ellie has hardly seen from her,  face turning red under the dimness of the street lights.  Gone is the bouncing girl from hours ago,  eager to share  (and quick to judge when Ethan questioned how long his virginity would last)  until her heart gave out.  In her place is a girl Ellie knows needs comfort more than she needs to blow up, no matter how she feels towards the idea.

After a feather light touch to Tara's wrist Ellie pushes her way through.   In her mind it's simple;  let her thoughts suffocate her,  let her guilt swallow her whole,  or be there for her sister.

"Buffy,"  she exhales when she has made it to the front,  her voice soft in that peacemaker way.   "What's wrong?"

At the end of the day it isn't even a choice.